


Happy Endings Exist Only in Fairy Tales

by phoenix_feathers_and_cacti



Series: a door closes [2]
Category: Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Anger, Gen, Grief, More angst, author's taken the liberty of making up a backstory for Quirin, bad things coming the king's way, not in this story though, story about Tangled without any of the main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_feathers_and_cacti/pseuds/phoenix_feathers_and_cacti
Summary: Quirin thinks about his life and how he's found himself where he currently is now.OrPeople asked for a continuation, but the author decided she wanted to write about Quirin's past instead.





	Happy Endings Exist Only in Fairy Tales

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally happy at leaving my other Tangled story as it was, but people seemed to want more. They were probably asking me to fix it, and if you're looking for a happy ending then I'm sorry to say you haven't found it. Maybe sometime in the future, though, considering this has now turned into a series (yay!!)
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> \- Quirin's past is as mysterious as anything else in the show, and I felt that in order to write something good for you guys I should first start as giving him a backstory. Then as I was writing I was like, this wouldn't make much sense unless it becomes it's own story, so here you guys go! Quirin now has a past (and is probably 100% inaccurate but whatever).
> 
> \- I make King Frederic seem a bit not good in this story. By no means is he a villain but he isn't exactly what we call a heroic king (just read the story) and that in no way reflects how I view the character. I just felt in order for this story to move I needed to take some... liberations. Also it's all from Quirin's POV and it's not exactly like he's the king's biggest fan at the moment.
> 
> \- This story takes a sharp detour from the show (starting with Queen For A Day) so if you haven't you should probably read the first part to this.
> 
> \- And, lastly, this will develop much differently than the show does for various reasons so don't expect a carbon copy with just a character swap (though from the lovely reviews I got from the last story I don't think anybody does).
> 
> Like always, hope you enjoy.

The day the princess disappeared was the day the black rocks appeared.

Understandably, the king and queen were much too distraught to contemplate the meaning behind that, but Quirin had. Quirin had gone to them in their time of grief and brought the rocks to their attention for the sake of everyone.

King Frederic had just fixed him with dead eyes and demanded, “Have the rocks hurt anyone?”

Quirin shook his head- taking care to remind himself to be sympathetic, but knew he needed to be firm as well so he replied honestly, “They seem to be concentrated in places inhabited- mostly on the other side of the Forest of No Return.”

King Frederic had stared at him for a long time before finally deciding, “You deal with this Quirin and deal with it in secret.”

Quirin nodded but knew he needed to ask, “Are you sure that is wise, your highness? You don’t think the people deserve to know?”

“As long as the people are not at risk, they do not need to know,” the king snapped turning his back on him as he added, “Now leave me.”

And if Quirin had been anyone else he would have obeyed with a polite bow, but because of their history he felt compelled to ask, “Is there anything I can do, old friend?”

King Frederic spoke in a low tone back still turned towards him, “One day you may have a child Quirin, and I pray you’ll never have to feel the pain I am currently feeling.”

“Your highness, your daughter isn’t dead. She’s just been-”

“Taken,” King Frederic shouted and all the pain he’d been poorly concealing.

Quirin squared his shoulders- not one to be intimidated by others- and replied dryly, “She’ll come back. She just needs her parents to show her the way.”

“How can you know that?” King Frederic had shouted back at him, but Quirin had shrugged and said he just did before taking his leave.

It wouldn’t be until almost three years later that Quirin would get the chance to look into the sky and see the floating lanterns for the first time.

{…}

Quirin sought out King Edmund after the king’s orders, and though he’s heard stories of the Mad King that oversaw the Dark Kingdom he did it anyways. The citizens of Corona- his neighbors and friends- were all clueless and the royals didn’t seem to be in any hurry to fill them in.

That was fine. Quirin could keep secrets, and he was the one the king had trusted in this assignment. So he did his duty for the crown and left his home and friends to find someone who should probably remain a mystery.

He packed up his whole life and left without so much as a note explaining where he went, and he did so under the blanket of nighttime as to not rise any unnecessary questions. The few friends he had would understand, and they’d move on with their lives like people did.

It certainly helped that he left the day after the princess’s kidnapping.

And almost six weeks later he finally found King Edmund and his castle. The man had seemed saner than Quirin had imagined, and he’d embraced him tightly when Quirin arrived before inviting him inside for a warm meal and soft bed.

“You’re the first person that’s visited me in a long time,” the Mad King explained as he guided Quirin inside, “Very few can make the journey.”

Quirin could understand. The journey had been perilous- especially for someone by themselves- but there was a reason the king trusted Quirin for this mission. In a different life Quirin may have even been placed as Captain of the Guards- except this was real life and real life rarely went as planned.

Later Quirin will find himself sitting in an empty house with nothing more than his memory of his wife and child, contemplating how unfair it all was. Of how everybody else seemed to get their happy endings while he was left to sit and suffer alone, but at the time he’d smiled and accepted King Edmund’s invitation to be his guest graciously.

A week later, Edmund officially showed Quirin the black rocks for the first time.

They were in what Quirin assumed had once been the throne room though all the furniture had been stripped away. The paint on the walls had already started to fade, and Edmund had covered the little windows in the room with what appeared to be blankets. Thick colorful things that had probably cost more than the house Quirin had left behind.

And in the center of it all stood the large intimidating rocks Quirin had read about in the Mad King’s urgent letter to Frederic.

Quirin’s lungs squeezed at the sight because it was one thing to read about them and another completely to see it. To be able to reach out and touch it, though Edmund was quick to catch his wrist when he tried.

“They can be a bit… touchy,” Edmund explained with only a shrug and unapologetic expression.

Quirin swallowed and nodded, jerking his hand back to himself as he returned himself to only observing. They looked dangerous, of course- tall and smooth with a sharp point at the top- but as there was only the collected batch in what used to be Edmund’s throne room.

“We’ve tried studying them,” Edmund explained from Quirin’s side, “but not much comes from it.”

“We?” Quirin inquired curiously, turning to stare at Edmund for the first time since he caught sight of the rocks.

“He means me,” a woman’s voice called from behind and he turned to see a tall muscular looking figure; long white hair was pulled back into a complicated looking bun as intense eyes bore down on him like a bird seizing its prey.

She appeared to have materialized from nowhere, but Quirin was too tired to be shocked by her sudden appearance so he nodded his understanding before turning back to the rocks. The woman didn’t speak again as she came to a stop beside Edmund, and she didn’t offer up any title he could call her by so he didn’t bother either.

King Edmund will, eventually, when Quirin stayed longer than a normal guest would have, and after all the letters he’s sent to King Frederic had proved fruitless and he was finally approached and asked if he wanted to be a part of the Dark Kingdom’s council.

And, the crazy part was, Quirin said yes.

{…}

He heard the news first from Adira.

She found him while he was doing his routinely check of the kingdom, and in the two and a half years he’s lived there he’s only found two other patches of the black rocks. He heard her approach from behind, having grown accustomed to her sneaking around, and she once commented on how he’s the only person capable of hearing her enter or exit a room.

He slowed to a stop to wait for her, and she made that frustrated face she does whenever she realizes he heard before saw her.

“Quirin,” she called as she neared.

Quirin nodded, prompting her to go on though he imagined he already knew what she was going to say. It’s been two and a half years without much progress and without much outside contact. It wasn’t good for the psyche and even worst in the realization that the closest they’ve come to finding a solution was a blue rock that seemed to drive those near it mad.

He returned to his walking when she finally made it to his side, Adira not missing a beat as she matched his casual side without any of her usual impatience.

“You should talk to King Edmund,” she continued, “He’s gotten it in his head that he wants to forgo this investigation on the rocks. He’s given up.”

“Come now Adira. He hasn’t given up,” Quirin chided good-naturedly, “He’s just worried about us.”

Adira spun so she could face him as she spoke in a low and dangerous tone, “He should focus all that concern on himself and those rocks. He cannot believe that-”

“He doesn’t want us to sacrifice our lives for what’s quickly appearing to be a futile search,” Quirin intoned effortlessly, stopping his step and setting his hands on her shoulders in a gesture he hoped she understood.

She must have because she didn’t bring the matter up again. Not when they were both called to King Edmund’s bedchambers so he could relieve them of the burden he thinks he’s placed upon them. Not when her and Quirin saddled their horses with what humble supplies Edmund could offer. Not when they turned to go their separate ways, and he had thought to himself that would probably be the last time they were going to see each other.

His chest ached at the thought of uprooting his life yet again and leaving everything that was familiar to him because of the words of a king. Perhaps that was why, when he stopped in a modest town just on the outskirts of Corona he decided that he had no intentions of seeking out King Frederic’s council so he could fill him in.

He knew he would, eventually, but at the moment he just wanted to focus on setting down roots without asking for permission for the first time in his life.

{…}

Four years after the princess disappeared, Varian was born into the world small and squirming and practically bursting with curiosity. Though if Quirin was honest the lost princess had been the last thing on his mind at the time.

Varian had come sooner than expected, which normally wasn’t a big deal. After all childbirth was known to be unpredictable, and midwives and doctors were trained for such circumstances. Except Varian had come out as an itty bitty thing, and people had started offering their condolences before their congratulations because they hadn’t thought he’d make it to morning.

Quirin’s chest had twisted, and he vaguely remembered screaming at anyone dumb enough to approach him as he mentally prepared himself for what was waiting for him come daybreak.

Miraculously, Varian survived and as he grew his curiosity for the world around him fueled his passion to continue to grow and learn and understand secrets of the universe Quirin hadn’t even been aware of. Varian’s mother had found it cute, but it reminded Quirin of dark rocks and secluded chambers and kings who didn’t seem to care so he was quick to chaste his son for such behavior.

And they lived like that for five years before Quirin’s wife passed.

It hadn’t been anyone’s fault. It had just been a particularly bad winter, and illness had swept the small town quickly. Both Quirin’s wife and son had come down with the mysterious infection, and he hadn’t even thought twice before packing their things and riding out to Corona for the first time since he left.

There he found help for his family, though it proved too late for his wife.

King Frederic found him the day after her passing, offering his condolences and a nice burial for her. Quirin accepted, too tired to do much else, and resigned himself to raising a child alone. Raising _Varian_ alone

They didn’t stay long in Corona, and King Frederic mentioned how Old Corona was looking for someone to lead them, and- even years after Quirin swore he was done living under the crown- he found himself quick to obey his king’s orders.

And as Varian grew he adopted his mother’s fierce independent spirit as he found new places to hide and experiment in. He was still young and inexperienced and forced to learn everything through trial-and-error so was often caught.

Then one day Varian made a critical error while he tried to help those no one else seemed eager to. Help his father. Help Old Corona. Help the crown and when it was Varian who needed the help all those people he’d been trying to save turned their back on him, which was unforgivable.

{…}

Varian’s workshop was dark, the windows boarded up and blanket from one of the abandoned houses thrown over Varian’s frozen body. Quirin had been loath to do that- afraid that if Varian was somehow still alive and conscious then he’d be forced to watch his father conceal him in even more darkness- but it hurt too much to look at.

That didn’t stop Quirin from talking to him, however. Just spoke about anything that came to mind really. He talked about how he’d been born into a wealthy family that served under the royal family perhaps more diligently than any other family in Corona. He talked about how he hadn’t even hesitated when the king sent him to investigate something he had no intent of looking into- not even when the rocks came ever closer and became a threat to the people.

He spoke about his time under King Edmund and- however boring the job had seemed at the time- he realized now how critical it was, and they hadn’t taken it seriously enough. He talked about his return to Corona, and how he met his mother and when he had to say goodbye.

He talked and worked and hoped to solve the impossible.

“You were never this talkative,” a familiar voice said behind him one day, “or if you had been it was never around me.”

Quirin stopped speaking so he could turn to face King Edmund once more. His sudden appearance shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, he’d sent a bird twice a week in hopes of gaining his old friend’s opinion. He’d just always expected a letter in return. Or perhaps be like Frederic and give him nothing at all.

“You came,” Quirin said dumbly, couldn’t stop staring.

King Edmund looked the same though he was now dressed in simpler clothing- something a bandit or perhaps spy may wear- and draped around weary shoulders was a thick grey cloak that he pulled from his head upon entering Varian’s workshop.

“Of course I came,” King Edmund waved off, “What kind of friend would I be to turn my back on you in your time of need?”

The image of King Frederic literally turning his back as Quirin desperately called for help flashed across his vision so quickly he was momentarily dizzy. Then it was gone, and Edmund’s kind face was smiling back.

“Something’s happened,” Quirin explained, “My son he- he became collateral, and the king is still trying to cover it up. Cover the rocks up.”

Edmund pursed his lips as he noted, “You’re angry with the crown.”

And when Edmund said it, it sounded like an understatement.

Somehow he managed to keep all of that inside as he replied, “The crown is choosing to remain blind to the problem at hand. They’re choosing to feign ignorance, but we both know that this isn’t a problem that is just going to go away.”

Still Edmund stared at him with that same thoughtful expression he always seemed to wear. Quirin suddenly felt very exposed, forgetting how easily Edmund had always been able to see through him.

“You blame them for your son,” and it wasn’t a question.

Quirin turned away, keeping his eyes from the corner he knew he son was still standing wearing the expression of a betrayed child. It hurt to think about, and it was the only thing he could think about when he wasn’t working on a solution to reversing it. To saving Varian.

“I blame them for a lot of things,” Quirin responded dryly.”

Edmund hummed, coming to stand at his side as he quoted, “A man full of resentment and rage cannot lead his people to prosperity and peace. You told me that when you first arrived at my doorstep.”

Quirin snorted, knowing he couldn’t fault Edmund.

That didn’t stop him from replying, “I was a fool back then, and I’m a fool now. _Please_ Edmund, I’m begging you.”

Edmund set his hand against his shoulder as he promised, “And I’m not turning you away. I just want you to know that revenge is not going to help anything. Tell me you understand.”

Quirin did- deep down- but the idea was just so immensely satisfying that it tempted him. Every time he closed his eyes or thought he heard Varian’s broken ‘ _daddy_ ’ in the wind- the idea of hurting those that allowed Varian to be lost brought a smile to his otherwise stoic features.

It was a side to himself he hadn’t thought he possessed, and it frightened him at times but to hurt was to human and if Frederic wanted to fault him for that then it was just another problem they were going to have.

Something shifted outside, and Edmund looked suddenly nervous. It was then Quirin remembered that Edmund had been exiled and branded the Mad King and a traitor when he’d brought his concerns about using the sun flower to save the queen.

He pulled his cloak back over his head, inching towards the door as he promised, “I’ll look into it old friend. I swear it.”

Quirin caught his wrist before dragging him into another hug and breathed for the first time in a long time, “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”

Edmund nodded against his shoulder before turning to leave Quirin alone once more with his thoughts.

{…}

He shouldn’t have been surprised when one of the Royal Guard rode up to his doorstep to demand he accept the king’s invitation of council. Quirin crossed his arms and was tempted to ask if the king couldn’t tell when someone wanted to be left alone. That probably would have resulted in the guard unsheathing his weapon and poorly deciding to pick a fight with Quirin- one he’d undoubtedly lose- and Quirin was too tired for any of that.

So he accepted with as little grace as he thought he could get away with and brushed off any assistance the smooth-faced self-proclaimed child Frederic had sent after him.

The king was waiting for him in his throne room, and he looked upset about something. Nervous and it was obvious he hadn’t been sleeping for a while now. The realization was almost enough to bring a smile to Quirin’s face.

Frederic turned when he entered, face smoothing into one of relief as he exclaimed, “Thank goodness, old friend. I was afraid something terrible had happened to you, though I must confess I’m confused. Why haven’t you responded?”

“Perhaps you can get your royal jester to explain it to you then, _your highness_ ,” Quirin said and the title sounded like an insult even to Quirin, “Or perhaps that band of thieves you allow to frolic around inside your walls.”

Either the words or the venom Quirin wasn’t even attempting to keep masked seemed to shock Frederic. He turned towards him, eyes wide in shock and betrayal as Quirin stared back passively. He took special care to keeping his frame relaxed and almost welcoming.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Frederic replied more cautious than before.

“You haven’t asked how Varian is either,” Quirin noted in a bored voice, “He didn’t make it.”

Something- probably the wrong thing because Frederic’s always been an idealistic fool- flashed across the king’s face as he adopted a sympathetic expression and said, “Quirin, I’m sorry to hear that. If you need anything I-”

Something hot and white swallowed Quirin’s vision momentarily at the king’s words- at his voice. It was like everything that he’s kept inside for the better part of his life suddenly came gushing out, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop it if he wanted to.

“You what Frederic?” he demanded as his face twisted meanly, “Will help me? Like last time?”

Frederic’s sympathetic expression turned to one of annoyance as he snapped, “We both know that isn’t fair. You were asking me to sacrifice the kingdom for a single life.”

A spike of true rage- the kind that burned as hotly as the sun itself- drove itself in Quirin’s stomach, but his voice was cold as frostbite as he replied, “As long as that person isn’t your wife or daughter. Right, your highness? Because I seem to recall you have no issue sacrificing your kingdom for their sake.”

And that was it.

Quirin wasn’t sure what Frederic had called him to talk about, though he was probably asking for his council because Quirin had made it a habit to quietly obey every order given to him without question and certainly without the wrath he was suddenly channeling at the moment.

Varian was gone, and Frederic hadn’t even tried to help and because of that everything’s changed.

“You have no right to speak to your king in such a manner,” Frederic snapped, evidently short-tempered from all those sleepless nights, and the man even dared to square his shoulders in a poor attempt of intimidation.

Quirin remained still. Almost as if he could keep all his ire, that was itching to just explode at once from him, somewhere deep inside. He schooled his expression so Frederic wouldn’t be able to see the grief that laid just beneath the surface.

“You’re not my king,” he said in a dead sort of voice, “You’re just the hypocrite that cost me my son, and I’m done keeping secrets for you.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Nobody tried to stop him on his way out.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be afraid to shout your thoughts at me in the comments. I'm very shout friendly.


End file.
